Tulips

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

It’s interesting to me that in most Protestant circles, Mary the mother of Jesus gets very little attention. She may get mentioned around Christmas time, but the rest of the year she fades into the background.

During Holy Week, I am always drawn to Mary. Perhaps it is because I, like her, am a mother. All four gospel writers mention that women were present at the crucifixion. Three of the four mention that Mary was one of those women. Matthew, Mark, and Luke indicate that the women were some distance away. But John indicates that Mary was right there at the foot of the cross and that some of Jesus’ final words expressed love for his mother.

I can hardly even imagine what it must have been like for Mary that final week of his life. Did she see his interrogation before Pilate? Did she hear the whip as it cut into his back? Did she try to run to him as he groaned in agony when they hoisted the cross and dropped it into the hole with a sickening thud? When he said he was thirsty, did she long to give him a drink? As the soldier pierced the side of this child that she had raised and nurtured, did she remember the words of the old prophet when Jesus was just eight days old – “a sword will pierce your own soul too”?

Most likely, Mary saw him stumble as he carried the cross. Perhaps she covered her ears or even got physically ill as the soldiers pounded the nails into Jesus’ hands and feet. She certainly heard the jeers of the crowd at Calvary, a crowd that only a week before had hailed him as the one who would save Israel. Maybe she even wondered if Jesus would, in fact, work another miracle, and come down from that cross.

I can also imagine that as Jesus murmured that familiar Jewish bedtime prayer, “into your hands I commit my spirit,” a prayer Mary undoubtedly taught Jesus when he was just a little boy, she completely fell apart. Flooded with memories of the little boy who laughed and played and hugged her and kissed her good-night, she could probably hardly believe this horror was happening. Perhaps like many of us who have suffered loss, she woke up the next morning hoping it was a dream, only to crash back into the wall of reality. She would never have Sabbath with her son again.

I think we tend to forget that although we know the end of the story, Mary did not. Unlike some of the disciples, Mary did not run away. She did what any good mother would do. She stayed with her son, suffering her own hellish agony while he suffered the curse of hell for her – and all of us.

From the young girl who selflessly submitted her will to that of God, risking her reputation and her betrothal, to the mother wondering about the sanity of her son, to the agony of losing her son in a torturous death, Mary is an example of faith and obedience to God’s will. Protestants would do well to remember and reflect on that often neglected reality, and to consider what the cost of Mary’s life-long obedience might have to say to us today.

Thursday, April 14, 2011

I recently heard a song by country music group Rascal Flatts. The song is entitled “I Won’t Let Go.” Turns out the songwriter, Jason Sellers, is a Christian and had more than human relationships in mind as he wrote the song. My daughter got the album for Christmas and thought I would like this song. I did like it. It touched something deep inside me, a place where I have stored memories of hurts like broken promises and broken relationships. I know my daughter shared it with me because it touched the same place in her, although her memories of brokenness are still quite raw.

Isn’t it true that we all want the assurance that someone, even if it is only one person, will be there for us no matter what, through thick and thin? Don’t we all want someone who will hold us tight when life drags us down, when we are depressed and just can’t put on a happy face one more time? Don’t we all wish for someone who will keep his/her promise to stand by us forever?

I thought of that song this morning as I did my devotions. The responsive reading in the lectionary for today included part of Ps. 105:8 as the refrain: “The LORD remembers his covenant forever.” Forever. Let that sink in for a minute.

How many broken relationships are in your past? How many times have you been left out, ignored, rejected, or even betrayed? Or maybe you have felt so low, that you didn’t even feel worthy of someone’s friendship; felt that no one could possibly love you because you simply weren’t worth loving?

If you are a Christian, you can know that even when everyone around fails you, breaks promises, and leaves, God will never leave you or forsake you. Like a good parent, nothing you do can make God love you more; nothing you do can make God love you less. Human relationships should reflect this sort of steadfast love that characterizes God. But quite often they don’t.

When they don’t (and even when they do) be assured of this: God always remembers his promise to be your God forever. God really won’t let go – not now; not ever.